


Voluntold

by CesarioWriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Bellamione Cult Secret Santa 2019, Canon who's she I don't know her, Discord: Bellamione Cult, Enough Cursing to Turn The Air Blue, F/F, Miltary Veteran Hermione Granger, This Was Supposed To Be A One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21948820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CesarioWriter/pseuds/CesarioWriter
Summary: Years ago, Hermione Granger stepped up to serve Queen and country in a wide reaching Muggle war that had her leaving the wizarding world. Back now amongst her wizarding peers, all Hermione wants is a bit of a quiet existence, and maybe to catch up on some classic shows. Unfortunately, that is not in the cards.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 19
Kudos: 214
Collections: Bellamione Cult Secret Santa 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beforeyouspeak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beforeyouspeak/gifts), [Lyssandra_Med](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyssandra_Med/gifts), [afterandalasia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/gifts).



> Hermione curses quite liberally. It is a function of her experiences in the War. She does not wish to speak of it. 
> 
> Spellular phone used as a hat tip to the great Drarry Tinder AU fic ["Howlr"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11568318).

The knock at her cottage door was of the sort that Hermione Granger was all too familiar with - and all too accustomed to ignoring. She didn't much care to hear of yet another comrade she would need to bury. She flicked the volume on her television and notched it up. Fuck if she was abandoning Ash and Scribbs. It had taken too damned much for her to get the sodding DVD set, she was watching the fucker. 

The knock sounded again, louder this time in a way unique to a sonorous charm. Hermione glared at the ceiling before stabbing at the pause button. 

"Fucking bloody inconsiderate fucknut fuckwit - what." Hermione's steady stream of cursing was interrupted by the sight of the woman on her doorstep. Slightly shorter, with a wild mane of curls that distracted with their loose, riotous disarray, the woman blinked in a mild sort of shock that seemed to be bleeding into amusement. Attractive enough, Hermione supposed. Not that she'd follow up on that.

"By Merlin, that's a mudmouth you've got there." 

Hermione glared. "Get off my doorstep." She started to swing the door closed, her mind already going back to the delights of the modern well attired lesbians in suburbia. 

"Bodies are showing up again. Like before." 

Hermione paused, looking directly into the fathomless depths of the eyes that bored into her. "Rough. Expect MLE has their hands full then. Best of luck to you. Go away."

Releasing a breath in a frustrated huff, her unwelcome guest planted her hands on her hips, highlighting the cinched and corseted waist that Hermione allowed herself to take in. "If you know anything-"

Hermione held up a hand, cutting off the woman's words. "I don't know how you found my home or who let you past the Fidelius, but I'm going to have words with them. Beginning with your boss. What's your number?"

A wicked grin spread across the woman's face. "Take a girl out first before demanding her digits, Granger. War hero status only gets you so far."

"Name and number." Hermione's face was implacable, the very stillness of her enough to indicate that she had done with messing about. 

With a wry, muted chuckle, the woman responded. "Auror Chief Inspector Bellatrix Black. You're needed."

Hermione held up her finger and pulled out her Spellular, her thumb channeling her magic into the device. It rang briefly before a male voice answered. Bellatrix stiffened. 

"Hello, Minister. Would you care to explain why I have an Auror-"

"ACI."

"ACI Black on my doorstep?" Hermione rolled her eyes as she listened. "I told you I wasn't-" He continued speaking. "They what." Hermione's face hardened. "I'll take the job. What, seriously? Now?" Hermione sighed and held up her hand. "I hereby swear by my name and magic to uphold the laws of magic to the best of my ability, so mote it be." Hermione ended the call before turning and walking back into the house.

Bellatrix stood on the doorstep, blinking at the whiplash of the last few moments. A voice echoed from within the house. 

"You coming?"

Bellatrix entered, cautiously following to where Hermione's voice had come from, to find the slender woman filling a kettle. 

"How do you take your tea?"

"Black."

Hermione didn't further acknowledge Bellatrix until they had their cups of tea before them. Stirring a bit of sugar, Hermione pinned a steady look on Bellatrix. "Explain."

"What job did you take?" Bellatrix enjoyed the warmth of the cup between her hands. The quietness of the house enveloped them in a pleasant enough ambiance. She inhaled the delicate aroma of the tea. "Tit for tat, precious."

Hermione took a sip of her tea. "I'm to run a task force that reports directly to the Minister. No red tape. If I or my team needs it, its ours." Hermione gave her unexpected guest a measured look. "You have a file for me?"

Bellatrix chuckled and pulled out the file. "So impatient, little witch." The file returned to its normal size as Bellatrix laid it down on the table. "Everything we know on the new bodies. Such as it is. We're flying blind."

Hermione ignored the pointed pet names and barbs in favor of reviewing the file. A single sheet for each body found, detailing location and a high level summary of condition. Each one listed the cause of death as "unknown".

"You assigned to this case, I take it?"

"Its one of my cases."

"Reassign everything else. You're with me."

Bellatrix leaned forward in her seat, her brow furrowing as the puzzle pieces slid together in her brain. "You're pulling me for your task force?"

Hermione gave Bellatrix a head to toe perusal. "You'll do. Until you're dead or I find someone better."

Bellatrix gave a short, eruptive bolt of laughter. "'Course. What's first, then?"

"I want the autopsies and any muggle records on all of the victims and locations. We'll need to cross reference magical and muggle records for this. Find someone who can work with computers. Magical, muggle, I don't give a flying fuck, get me the fucker who can make these fucking systems sing. I'll get HQ squared away, you handle getting my team together. I'll have one or two fuckers I'll fucking, ah, fuck whatever they're doing and get their shit together. This is going to get worse." Hermione frowned at the file, noting a name. "And we'll need to order in some fucking lunch, I'm hungry."

The sparkle in the dark eyes that watched Hermione were downright salacious. "I've changed my mind. You're downright fun, Muddy." 

Hermione smirked. "You've got no idea, Black. Get this shit done. Meet me at the Ministry in an hour. Have whoever you can find rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron and wait for us there. Opsec on this one is eyes only, need to know." Hermione stood, placing her mug in the sink. Bellatrix rose and followed her, her arm reaching around to deposit her own borrowed mug into the sink. The warmth of her body burned into Hermione, reminding her of just how long it had been since she'd taken a 96 and gotten stupid. 

Well. As stupid as could be done given the circumstances, she supposed. 

"Oh, Muddy...this is going to be _delicious_." The soft purr of smoke and sex that laced through the voice in her ear made Hermione tremble. 

She really should see into releasing some pressure. Before she did something stupid, like the deeply satisfying claiming of Bellatrix that had just popped into her mind unbidden. 

The click of her front door shutting broke Hermione free of the delicious filthy thoughts that had assailed her. Right. Headquarters for her new team of unknown size, to catch what might very well turn out to be a rising wizarding cult or a seriously deranged killer. 

Piece of cake. 

So long as she remembered to keep her hands to herself and not place them on the tempting form of one ACI Bellatrix Black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gathering her team together, Hermione reveals a bit of why she has been chosen for this mission. Shouldn't be a problem. Even if its starting to look like having Bellatrix Black at her side is not going to present any form of respite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to afterandalasia, who left the most charming and delightful comment which inspired me to continue.

A frisson of wind curled around the raised hood of nondescript dark gray that obscured the features of a silently standing figure, save for the tendril of brown hair that whipped with the wind. With a frustrated dash of a hand, the wayward hair was tucked into the depths of the hood. In the last thirty seconds, no motion had been observed from the small cottage save a thin curl of barely visible smoke rising from the chimney, its tendrils slowly dying as they rose toward the sky.

Not that activity was truly expected. 

Striding forward, Hermione rapped her knuckles against the door. She doubted it was needed. Her presence had likely already been noticed. 

"'Min, Jackie, I'll put the kettle on." 

Hermione rolled her eyes at the nickname but said nothing as she followed into the house, the door closing with the soft click of the latch. Sparse pictures of landscapes dotted the hallway, a single umbrella leaning against the coat closet door. The rugs that sprawled across the floor were clean, barely worn, serving to muffle her booted heels as she entered deeper into the house until she emerged into the kitchen. Door to the left looked to wind deeper toward a lounge, and a door with a bright curtain framing the inlaid window led to the wildly growing garden out back. 

"Been stuck in, Digs." The man's hands stilled momentarily before resuming the preparation of his cup of tea. "Want you with me."

Turning away from the kettle and leveling his gray eyes on his former commander, John "Digs" Digbey crossed his arms across his chest. "Canceled your terminal leave, then?"

A muscle in Hermione's cheek twitched and Digs tilted his head, recognizing that tic from a 0200 briefing in Jalalabad. The ways the skies had lit on that op burst back to the forefront of his mind and his spine straightened, his arms falling to his sides. 

"Do I need to sign anything?"

Hermione gave him a brief ghost of a smile and pulled out a slim piece of decorative wood that Digs had only seen a few times during their tours. He inhaled sharply, his body snapping into the strict position of respect that had been ingrained in them. As rarely as he'd seen it, he'd always known that it was always, _always_ a precursor to a mare's nest.

"Extend your hand." Digs did so silently, watching without watching in that way unique to anyone who'd stood at parade for any length. "Do you, John Allen Digbey, swear to hold the secrets that I will entrust to you, releasing them only to persons I designate?"

Quietly, he spoke with a measured calmness. "I so swear."

A lash of warmth, sudden but not entirely unpleasant, wrapped around his wrist, glowing beneath his skin with a myriad of lights reminiscent of tracer rounds and the soft glow of the Northern Lights he'd seen once on holiday.

With a quiet sigh, Hermione slid her wand away and gave a rueful smile to Digs. "Go bag?"

"Still packed." He turned and poured out the kettle, quickly replacing the tea and mug he'd been set for. "Should I make any preparations?"

Hermione gave a short laugh. "I'll have Kings send a crew to handle what needs handling. Get your bag. We're short on time." In short order, he'd returned, bag in hand and met Hermione at the front entrance. She gave him a brief look of apology before she grasped his wrist. "Remember, exhale. Three, two, one."

After the one, the world disappeared into a swirl of color and sensation and he stumbled as they landed. Shaking his head he rubbed his face, forcing down the nausea that welled within him. "Never gets any easier, does it?"

Hermione gave a short laugh, shaking her head. "Figure its like sea legs. Some got them, some don't." She began to stride away from the apparition point and spoke in measured tones. "Welcome to Diagon Alley. If you stare like a numpty, I'll thump you."

Digs trotted along behind Hermione with a grin, casting his eyes quickly about and cataloging the myriad newness that surrounded him. He startled briefly at seeing a short, bespectacled creature in a three piece suit, but heeding Hermione's warning, shoved it aside and continued onward. She led them through a shabby looking door and, with a silently raised hand, a key flew through the air into her hand from the dismissively waving patron. They made their way upstairs and Hermione opened the third door on the right. Four more doors lay beyond, and an equal number visible on the left, one other possible stairway on the far end of the hallway. A glance back over the shoulder proved that they were not followed up the stairs.

Hermione opened the door quickly, ushering Digs in preceding her. He shivered visibly as a chill skittered along his skin, then a deep certainty that he should not be there landed low in his gut. Hermione muttered beneath her breath behind him and the sensation eased as soon as she quieted. 

"Hello again, Muddy." Leaning against the window frame, Bellatrix was watching the street below with a small smile. "Your computer expert will be here shortly. Made some noise about needing a better hotspot, whatever that is. Should be back soon with our alchemy expert." Bellatrix turned her head, taking in the whipcord lean man next to Hermione, who watched her with a quiet stillness that Bellatrix had seen a time or two before. "And who might you be?"

Hermione dropped a thick red banded folder - where in the deuce had she pulled that from flitted through Digs brain - onto the side table with and audible thump that made the as of yet silent occupant of the room jump. She gestured with her head in the general direction of Bellatrix and Digs stepped forward, relaxed but alert. He met the curious gaze of Bellatrix directly.

"Sergeant John Digbey, Royal Scots Dragoons, ma'am."

Bellatrix laughed, a teasing, lilting thing. "Oh, Muddy, you could learn some manners from this one!" Standing, Bellatrix propped her fists on her hips, grinning widely at the man. "Auror Chief Inspector Bellatrix Black. The meek thing trying to hide behind thin air is Doctor Sarah Butler, who apparently decided that being an expert in healing wasn't enough, she wanted to take a first in Muggle medicine. Hear she's a right demon to anyone trying to get to her patients, isn't that right, Doc?" 

Looking to Digs, Hermione gave him a nod. He gave a polite nod to the Doc and took a position leaning against the wall next to the table and across from the Doc. 

A quick rap at the door had Hermione glancing to Bellatrix, who grinned. "Right on time. Do come in."

The door swung open to reveal a bag that bulged weirdly, obscuring all but a recognizable head of platinum hair. Hermione looked to the ceiling for a long moment before releasing a breath and waving at the two newcomers to settle their gear. 

"Glad to see you've grown into the hair, Draco. Who're you?" Bluntly, Hermione leveled a steady gaze on the slightly soft woman who shoved her glasses up her nose. 

"Lakshmi Fawley, ma'am. I, uh, work with computers." 

Hermione gave a short nod, then turned her attention to Bellatrix. "Black. A word." The woman rose from her relaxed lean against the window and met Hermione in the middle of the room. A quick flick of Hermione's hand had them surrounded by a wordless Muffliato. "There a reason I'm surrounded by purebloods?" Turning a glare on the woman, Hermione raised a single eyebrow.

Bellatrix smirked, leaning in just far enough for Hermione to feel the heat of her arm, bare millimeters away from brushing against her own. "You wanted the best. Draco's made a name for himself in alchemy, and his knowledge of current apothecary standards is second only to his father." With a laconic head nod to Lakshmi, Bellatrix continued. "And Miss Fawley is a half blood, while Doctor Butler is actually a Muggleborn like yourself." Bellatrix grinned unrepentantly. "Might want to check those prejudices you bandy about there, Muddy."

Hermione raised her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, the backs of her fingers brushing against the stiff cloth and bone of the corset that hugged the distracting form before her. Work first. She dropped the Muffliato. "Right. Should have guessed. You're going to be a pain in my ass, aren't you."

Bellatrix laughed. "Not what I'd prefer to do to your ass, but it's a start."

Digs didn't laugh, though it was a close thing. Hadn't seen someone get under Jackie's skin like that since...well. A while.

Hermione turned her head to look toward Lakshmi, Doctor Butler and Draco, who had congregated near the lone bed of the room. "Alright. We're going to portkey to HQ. If you need anything that you don't have with you, tough. We'll figure it out later." Pulling out a curled ribbon, Hermione held it out for them all to grasp. Digs followed along, his hand grasping the silken ribbon. Hermione snatched up the hefty folder from behind her and quietly, but clearly, pronounced the spell. 

Digs decided he was not a fan of magical transport as he landed on his ass in a large expanse of idyllic English countryside. Well kept gardens stretched out around them, and in the distance he could see some form of decorative fountain. Before the small group was a large and imposing edifice, the sort of stately home that would certainly be on the national register, provided that people could find the bloody place. 

"Alright, head in. House elves will take care of your needs. They're bound to me so treat them well or I will know. Be polite. Digs, I swear to fuck if you don't shut your fucking mouth, I will shut it for you. Its just a fucking house."

"A house for a fucking Lady of a fucking Manor! The fuck!"

Hermione sighed. "I can't talk about it. It's mine and its our HQ for the foreseeable future." Bellatrix allowed her gaze to take in the impressive grounds, noting how the symmetry and layout would give Narcissa conniptions of delight. "I can't tell you the name yet. By entering the grounds, you've been placed under specific secrecy statutes that I cannot discuss beyond stating that they cover the house and its location. You cannot reveal any information about it even if you wish to." She shot a stern look to Bellatrix, who was smiling beatifically back. "Come."

Digs muttered beneath his breath, just in range of Bellatrix, "Bleeding Jackie's gone full fucking yob on us, fucking fuck."

A distinctly unladylike snort emerged from the auror and Digs gave her a bewildered half grin. 

"S'ry."

"No skin off my nose." They walked up to the doors, which were thrown wide like they were the automatic doors at Aldi, and they were greeted with a line of the ugliest little creatures that Digs had seen yet. Knobby and awkward, he didn't bother to restrain his staring. After all, they weren't in public anymore, he should be allowed to take in some of the wonder he was now getting shoved in his face. 

"House elves. Think of them like magical servants, and we're the gentry. Makes 'em make more sense." Doctor Butler muttered next to Digs. He shot her a grateful look. Much as he was able to go with the flow, sometimes a bit of extra information helped.

"The founder of S.P.E.W. has house elves?" The deeply amused comment emerged from Draco and halted Hermione in her tracks. She turned and leveled a blank stare on the man, which served to halt him dead in his tracks. Digs certainly didn't envy the man. That look only ever predicated trouble.

"Out of respect for our shared history, I will pretend you did not say that. Do not test my patience." Draco paled slightly, nodding at the steel made flesh in the form of the woman before him. His nose never sat straight after she punched him back in school. He was not eager for a repeat.

"Sorry."

Hermione dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand. Bellatrix watched them, her dark gaze thoughtful as she observed. As she turned, Hermione caught her watchfulness and narrowed her eyes slightly in question. Bellatrix dipped her head, a slight smile curving her lips. Hermione shook it off and turned her mind back to immediate needs.

"Come. We'll set up in the library." Striding off, Hermione spat out orders in rapid succession, the house elf that trotted next to her nodding with virulence. "Have the beds changed and the rooms aired immediately. If any of these guests require anything, have it secured forthwith. I will not tolerate failure, but I will not expect miracles. Come to me for any difficulties. Have a lunch spread brought, cold dishes, handheld as much as possible. Get tea and any other drinks as requested. Get the entrance to the basement chambers cleaned out, I don't want to run into another fucking cobweb. Assign a personal elf to each of the guests, and find me some volunteers to be willing to help more closely with the investigation. Don't forget to instruct everyone on the new cleaning and appearance standards." By the time her rapid fire instructions were complete, the small group had made it into a large and expansive library, ringed round by floor to ceiling shelves, all stacked with books. 

A couple of house elves were finishing setting up tables, and as they finished, they all vanished with a series of pops, startling Digs. He dropped into a soft looking couch, letting his bag rest against his ankle. Across from him, Doctor Butler took a seat, her eyes glancing around the space with a keen interest. Her eyes lingered on a shelf just to her left, keenly taking in the titles displayed on the spines of the books.

As the rest of the group took various positions, Hermione turned and took them in. A motley crew, but they might do to help crack this if they were as good as purported. Her right calf pulled slightly, a twinge of memory and guilt, and she stood taller, taking in the sight of them. Bellatrix watched her with a half smile, a sense of amusement laying on the woman like a second skin. 

"Right. Ok, listen up." All heads turned her direction, only Bellatrix displaying no curiosity. "You are here because you have been selected to join my task force. I report directly to Shacklebolt, and you report to me and only me." Hermione met their gazes directly, not surprised at the shock she saw. "Congratulations on your promotions. You're now part of the only investigative body that can investigate in either the Muggle or magical world with impunity. You've each got your specialties, and a good thing too, because we've got a fucking case."

With a wave of her hand, Hermione blew up an image of one of the crime scenes. Laid out serenely, the victim was a nondescript Muggle of middling years. "Over the last two months, five different victims have been discovered dead by no visible means, Muggle or magical. They are of mixed ages, races, blood status and magical ability." Hermione did not glance over at Digs as a series of images flashed up in the air, showing the victims, each displaying the same way. "However, this has been going on for longer." An image flashed up of a crumpled body that was all too recognizable to Digs. "While-" Hermione paused. "How many of you know what I have been doing since I left Hogwarts?"

Only Digs and Bellatrix indicated knowledge by raising their hands, one with a quiet calm, the other with an almost childlike glee. Hermione sighed.

"I've been serving in Her Majesty's Army in the War. It ended approximately three months ago. During my time, we were tasked with sensitive missions which are not immediately relevant." Glancing over to Lakshmi, Hermione dipped her head toward the woman. "I believe your ability to work with computers in the magical world is a direct result of the War and some of the advances made in the years leading up to it. I know a lot of information was passed back and forth during the War, especially with the Muggleborn and half blood recruitment efforts being what they were."

"You saved the country, ma'am."

A flush dusted her cheeks at the reminder from Digs. "I did my duty. And I'm doing it again." Turning back to the images, she pointed to the sprawled form displayed. "This victim was one of the first to be identified, in a province of Afghanistan during the last few months of active incursions. His body was extracted from the Red Zone and brought back, as were the following seven victims identified by other squads." The images were displayed in succession, before the images were displayed in a lineup, showing all thirteen victims at once. "These victims have all been examined by doctors and healers, investigators both Muggle and magical. There are no indications of any sort as to what is causing their deaths."

Hermione turned and faced them directly, the images highlighting her form. "Our job is to figure out what is happening and who is doing it. I want information, as much of it we can find." She pointed to Lakshmi. "I want every record you can find on each of the victims. Whatever you can find, from anywhere you can find it. I don't give a shit if its a fucking online rumor, I want to know about it. Scope is both magical and Muggle. Get it done, and leave as little trace as possible. If you can do it undetected, all the better." She turned her finger to Draco. "Find me every untraceable potion, poison, means of death. I want you two," She indicated both Draco and Doctor Butler, who exchanged a look and nodded, "To work together and figure out what can kill and leave no magical or Muggle traces whatsoever." She turned her attentions to the last two. "Black, Digs, you'll be with me."

A soft pop sounded and a quiet "Mistress, lunch is ready" sounded at her elbow. Hermione looked down, a brief smile flashing. "Thank you. Please have the elves for Draco, Doctor Butler and Lakshmi come introduce themselves, then please see to Digs needs personally with whomever is assigned to him. He is Muggle so please give him the appropriate introductions." Hermione gestured to each person as she named them, and the elf gave a deep bow to her. 

"As you command, Mistress."

As Digs spoke to the elf, Hermione stepped to Bellatrix, firmly ignoring the frisson that suffused her as she caught the scent of sun warmed skin. "You trust them?"

"In so far as I trust."

Hermione gave a brief smile at the sentiment. "Anything to watch for?"

"Geekarella looks soft but has steel beneath. Same with our medico. And before you ask, I included the boy in this because he's the best in his field that's actually able to work with others. Not because he's my nephew." Bellatrix grimaced. "As it stands, I'm fairly certain I'm going to be in the shit with Cissy if she ever finds out what we're doing."

Hermione echoed her grimace. "Fuck. She's not calmed over the years, has she."

"My sentiments exactly, and no." Bellatrix rubbed the back of her neck before shrugging. "You didn't use an unbreakable on your sergeant."

A brief moment of confusion clouded Hermione's features before she gave a wry grin. "Of course you'd recognize. No, I gave him a modified secret keeper tuned to alert me in the event he spills, no matter what means are used to extract the information. Not like he's got Occulemency shields." A thought flittered through Hermione's mind and she dropped into a thoughtful contemplation. "Might be able to charm something to serve as a blocker, though."

"Bit like magical kevlar, that."

Hermione gave a short bark of laughter. "Close enough. Come on. I'm bloody well starved."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A breakthrough of contemplation while Hermione's thirst can be seen from space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hat tip to [Stargazer_01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stargazer_01/pseuds/Stargazer_01) for flailing so much over this chapter as I was writing it that she started writing her own Hot Take.

Skin dampened by a light sheen of sweat tugged against the sheets of a thread count entirely far too decadent to be justifiable in prior circumstances. Beneath closed lids, Hermione's eyes flickered attention at memories that plagued her, painted in the mindscape as they were. Twisted and deformed by her own mind, she remained trapped within her dream for a scant further breath before her eyes popped open and a slow exhalation escaped her. She cast her eyes around the room for a moment, cataloging the shadows against her fading dreams, dismissing the lingering emotion as much as she could. 

With a stretch, she pulled herself from her bed. With a conscious decision, she refused to touch the sheets once she'd extracted herself, content for once to allow her house elves to see to the mundane choring of household maintenance. 

A wry half smile ghosted across her lips. A far cry from her youthful days, to be sure, as Draco had rightly called her out for. Rightly so or not, the insubordination could not be borne. The rebuttal was necessary to drive home that there was a chain of command and he would respect her or die trying. Hopefully the message given was enough, and she wouldn't have to make any examples of her nascent team. She knew Digs inclusion would be enough to see to many of the issues she might otherwise face, as they were a team of civilians. She rubbed her face, letting out a yawn. The morning sun barely peeked through the curtains. Reaching into the small fridge next to her bed, she pulled out a tallboy of Rip It. Popping the top, she took a swig, recognizing the distinct flavor of F-Bomb on her tongue. With a smirk, she set about to dressing for her morning PT. 

The gym in the basement was outfitted nicely and as she was midway through her third set of reps, Digs appeared in the doorway, a towel draped over his shoulders. He nodded at her, swigging from his customary biliously colored Gatorade bottle. Hermione's nose twitched at the sight. 

"Still can't unfuck your taste buds enough to pick a good flavor, Digs?"

Digs saluted her lazily with his Gatorade. "Still starting your day with an F-Bomb?"

Hermione flipped him off and set about to the next set of reps. 

He started a low weight set of chest presses, his motions smooth and steady, continuing through the final sets of Hermione's reps. She moved to the treadmill as he reracked the bar and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Figure out the attack plan yet?"

Hermione grinned and tapped the speed up on the treadmill, lengthening her stride. "It'll be sorted. Something's nagging at me."

Digs nodded, waving idly at the arrival of Bellatrix into the gym. The loose fitting cutoff sweats did nothing to hide the physique, and Digs did not miss the way that Hermione tried valiantly not to be obvious about her desire to stare. The repeated glances around the room did not do a damned thing to hide Hermione's thirst. Digs pulled out a yoga ball and a weight plate, reclining and beginning a set of weighted hip dips and sit ups. Bellatrix had wrapped her hands and was warming up with the speed bag. Her arms flexed as a soft sheen of sweat began to spread across her skin. Hermione stared openly, her feet continuing to slam against the treadmill. 

It was truly unfair, Hermione thought, that the world could have such beauty in it. A trickle of sweat traced down the line of dark hair, curving around the litheness of cheekbone before Bellatrix wiped it away with a negligent hand, the other continuing to roll through punches at the speed bag. Soft grey cotton began to darken with sweat, highlighting the effort Bellatrix was putting into the steady and relentless rhythm of her punches. Muscle bunched and released in her shoulders, keenly visible to Hermione's hungry gaze, and she didn't bother to try to hide it any longer. She slapped at the treadmill, slowing the pace before her feet flew out from beneath her. Short though her run was, the wild beating of her heart in her chest was a far cry more intense than normal. 

Not that she should be surprised, really. Not after the way Bellatrix had comported herself so ably the day previous. Slowing to a walk, Hermione glanced toward Bellatrix at the sudden change in the rhythmic pattern. Caught by dark fathomlessness, Hermione gave a wry grin, unrepentant at being caught looking. 

"There's something fucked with these deaths." The treadmill continued through Hermione's cooldown, and she dashed her hands through her sweaty hair. "Beyond the baseline. What purpose do they serve? What's been achieved by them?"

Bellatrix stopped the bag with her hands and turned, focusing her full attention on Hermione. Digs set aside the weight plate, rolling up on the yoga ball to sit and look directly to their leader. 

"The ones in theater, what did they achieve?" 

Digs didn't have to think for his answer. "Body counts. Each one resulted in an ambush or skirmish too accidental to not be planned."

Hermione nodded, slapping at the treadmill and stopping it outright, the low beeps sounding in the gym. "And these ones here?"

Bellatrix tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "Each death benefited either a person or a corporation directly, from initial review."

Hermione rubbed at her face. "What if we're not tracking a serial killer." She waved her sweat covered hand in the air, the rushing air cooling her palm. "Well, we are, but not what I mean. What if its all for hire?"

Digs rubbed at his chin. "State sponsored to freelance like the hackers we tracked?"

"Makes more sense than Thatcher winning a humanitarian award."

Digs snorted a half swallowed laugh. Bellatrix smirked. 

Hermione leaned against the treadmill's control panel, her arms resting on the top edge of the panel. "We need to redirect the investigation. Lakshmi is going to be a lot more crucial to figuring this out."

Bellatrix shook her head. "She was up half the night. Saw her crashed out in the library before I came in here. If I know my geeks, a hot cuppa will see her sorted."

A short nod of acknowledgment was enough and Bellatrix gave a smirk in response. Hermione decidedly ignored the clawing hunger that scraped at her ribs. "Let's see to brekky. We'll have a day and a half of it, seems like."


End file.
